Where's the Whimsy?
by Orangejolius
Summary: Stan meets Kyle for the first time one hot, confusing summer, and he hopes that he can be the one person to help him find what he's looking for. Smoking weed and kissing Kenny while Kyle watches should help, right? :)


It was the height of a sweltering South Park summer, and Stan was working at a crappy convenience store; stocking shelves and running the register.

Mostly it had been uneventful, although plenty of his classmates had filtered through the doors as the hot weeks wore on, but really, his days were hopelessly mired in routine, not that he was really complaining. He'd mostly gotten the job to get his folks off his ass, but it was nice having a place to go everyday, and now he was actually able to buy weed off of Kenny every now and then.

It was a decidedly humid evening in mid-July and Stan was working the late shift when Kenny came into the store, still wearing his standard orange coat even in the midst of one of the worst heatwaves the town had had in decades. His one concession was that he was willing to unzip it and push the hood back, revealing a white undershirt beneath and the tops of his plaid boxers. He wore his dark denim jeans slung low on his hips, the chain from his wallet curved up and attached to one of his belt loops.

Stan wasn't surprised to see him, not in the slightest. He'd texted him earlier that day to let him know that he was interested in buying some of his product so he'd expected him to show up before too long. What did surprise him was the diminutive figure that entered the store alongside Kenny, their red hair catching the sterilized lighting falling from the ceiling. They seemed so light on their feet that they almost floated, and they stuck close to Kenny's side like they were cautious about straying too far.

They were wearing knee high converse sneakers and long olive green shorts, topped off with a sleeveless black shirt and oddly enough, a lime green ushanka, which only served to cover up part of their garish red hair. A splash of freckles was spattered across their nose, and they had a cute kitten-ish look, but their deep green eyes were wild-bright and feisty. Stan was immediately arrested by their presence, and he couldn't look away, even if he couldn't tell whether or not they were male or female. It didn't matter; he was captivated either way.

Kenny came up to the counter and Stan couldn't help but think of the little red head as a pet following him; its face suddenly sullen as they regarded him. Before he knew it, they were sticking out their tongue at Stan, and then hiding behind Kenny in one quicksilver motion. A faint feeling of arousal struck Stan at seeing that little pink tongue, and his surprise at this sensation could've knocked him over if he hadn't been holding onto the counter.

"'Sup, man?" Kenny asked, setting a bottle of Mountain Dew on the counter. He turned to his companion. "Did you want anything?"

The redhead reached out and snatched a green apple blow pop from the display beneath the counter, and quickly plunked it down next to Kenny's Mountain Dew, then retreated behind Kenny again. Kenny grinned.

"Don't mind him, he's just eccentric," he explained, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet.

Stan was taken aback to hear that it was a guy, his mind recalling the delicate pale shoulders and woebegone swayback posture. He was even more taken aback about the fact that he was still turned on; he'd never been with a dude before. He'd been sleeping with Wendy all summer, when they both found the time between their respective jobs. She was a lifeguard at the community pool, and when he got her in the backseat of his car he reveled in the chlorine-scent still clinging to her skin and hair, and it was almost like she carried the sun home in her flesh from sitting underneath it all day.

"You don't say?" He asked, trying to play it casual. He started ringing them up even though he was still painfully aware of the creature hiding behind Kenny's back, and he almost wanted to take the lollipop and lure him out of hiding.

"Yeah, he's searching for whimsy or something," Kenny said, idly. "So, you wanted to buy some stuff, right? How much do you want? Oh, and before I forget, I need a pack of Marlboro Reds."

Stan wanted to ask him to go into detail about the whimsy comment but decided against it. Instead, he reached behind him and grabbed a pack of smokes, and threw them on the counter. Kenny wasn't old enough to buy them yet, neither of them were, but Stan knew he had an in with the owner, so he wasn't too pressed about it. Kenny made friends with everyone, and he was quickly becoming the friendly neighborhood weed dealer.

"Yeah, I've got twenty bucks," Stan said, throwing a wrinkled twenty on the counter. "Just give me what it's worth."

Kenny pocketed the money and threw a bag on the counter. Stan quickly took it even though he wasn't worried about the exchange being caught on camera, it's not like they worked or anything.

"I'd smoke with you tonight but I have to get him home, or at least as close to his home as he'll let me get," Kenny said, picking up the mountain dew and passing the blow pop to his companion. Stan saw a tiny pale hand reach out and take it before disappearing again. "It's getting late and all."

"Yeah, it's cool," Stan said. "I'll see you later, man."

Kenny waved and turned away, tucking the cigarettes into his back pocket as the redhead trailed behind him. As they were leaving, he looked over his shoulder, and Stan saw that he was furiously licking at his lollipop, his green eyes narrowed and curious. They left the store and Stan couldn't take his eyes away from that pink tongue worrying that lollipop, a deep seated and unsettling arousal burning through him long after they were gone.

The rest of the summer continued to pass uneventfully for the most part, and Stan soon figured out that the only glimmer of interest he was going to experience existed with the little redhead. Before he knew it, he would spend every shift he was working looking out the windows to see if that familiar green ushanka was bobbing toward him, and more often than not it was.

It took awhile but he finally learned that the kid's name was Kyle, and he really was searching for whimsy. On one of the occasions where he didn't come in with Kenny, he actually spent a moment talking to Stan as he leaned against the counter sucking down a cotton candy slurpee. Stan could only watch him with fascination, as Kyle seemed to subsist solely on sugar, weed, and smart ass comments.

"I've lived all over the place," he said, his pink lips lingering on the red straw. Stan's eyes watched them part, and he could feel his own mouth starting to water. "And wherever I've gone, I just can't find what I'm looking for, you know?"

Stan's eyes slid over the delicate bird bones under Kyle's pale skin and he hated himself for thinking such unbelievably filthy thoughts, but he couldn't help it. He'd never responded to another person this way, let alone a guy. He shook his head.

"Where have you lived?"

"Texas, Washington, New Jersey, Maryland," he thought a moment, licking idly at the straw. "Oh, and Idaho, but we weren't there long enough to really talk about it. All of those places felt really empty, so I'm hoping that South Park actually has something to offer me."

"What are you looking for exactly?" Stan asked, and he could vividly imagine taking Kyle into the break room and fucking him over the table in there, errant paper cups and wrappers scattered over its surface. He clenched his hands, imagining.

Kyle shrugged, and in Stan's sex-crazed mind even this small gesture seemed erotic.

"I'm not sure, but I'll know it when I find it." He finished off his slurpee. "At least I hope so."

"That seems pretty vague."

"Whimsy is vague. I mean, look around us. You working in some crappy convenience store during your teenage years could be considered whimsical, or, meeting a new person and having some weird instant connection could be considered whimsical. Christ, even these fucking green apple blow pops could be steeped in whimsy. Don't you think?" He picked up a handful of lollipops and dropped them on the counter. "I'll take all of those, by the way."

Stan's heart raced as he bagged up the lollipops and watched as Kyle walked out of the store and into the late afternoon heat, and he could imagine the way his thin white t shirt would wilt against his skin after being outside for too long. Stan idly reached for a blow pop himself and unwrapped it, and as he watched the lime green ushanka disappear down the street he sucked on it, desperately wishing it were Kyle instead.

****  
"Do you think it'd be okay if we smoked in the walk in today?" Kyle asked. It was a few weeks later and once again he had come into the store without Kenny. He was sitting on the counter next to the register, wearing another thin t shirt and long shorts, his scruffy high top converse shoes swinging against the candy display. He was chewing gum and Stan was captivated when he stuck his tongue through the pink substance so he could blow a huge, unwieldy bubble.

"Sure, I go on break in five minutes, and it's too fucking hot to go outside today," Stan replied, leaning on the counter and watching the little beads of perspiration line up on Kyle's forehead. He was also painfully aware that he desperately wanted to lick them away, one by one. They had smoked out back of the store a few times in the past, but smoking in the walk in actually sounded nice. Christ, just being anywhere alone with Kyle sounded nice to Stan.

"Great, Kenny said he'd be here in a few minutes to join us, okay?" Kyle jumped off of the counter and stretched out his skinny arms, seemingly not noticing that he'd just pulverized Stan's heart.

"Yeah, sure. Great," Stan said, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

Less than ten minutes later, the three of them were huddled in the walk in and laughing as Kenny lit up a joint for them to share. Stan was still severely disappointed that he wasn't in that tiny space with Kyle, but he was trying to lighten up, all the while enjoying the sight of Kyle's nipples becoming stiff and prominent behind his thin t shirt. His eyes must have been lingering as he took a hit because all at once he noticed that Kyle was watching him, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"You know what I'd like to see?" He asked, his voice soft and a little sly.

Stan and Kenny both glanced at him, waiting expectantly.

Kyle took the joint before he spoke, taking a deep drag that even seemed to impress Kenny. He exhaled slowly, his delicate chest rising and drawing even more attention to his hard little nipples.

"I want to see you two kiss. What do you think? Wouldn't that be incredibly fucking hot?" Kyle's green eyes were so bright that he almost looked like he was lit from within, and he took another drag, smiling hopefully; wickedly. "I mean, you're both super attractive so it'd be nice to see you kiss. In fact, I think you owe it to the world."

Stan and Kenny glanced at one another, their eyebrows raised. Stan had certainly not expected Kyle to suggest something like that so he had to figure that Kenny was just as surprised as he was. Kenny didn't look opposed to the idea though, which didn't surprise Stan in the slightest. He'd known for years that Kenny was all about love, and whether you were a girl or a guy or whatever, if he thought you'd be a good time, he'd fuck with you.

"What do you think?" Kenny asked, reaching out and taking the joint from Kyle. "I'm down if you are. It's not like I've never thought about kissing you before."

Stan crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow, feeling just as surprised at this development as Kyle's suggestion. All of a sudden he was super aware of Kenny's hard nipples under his tight white undershirt as well, and he looked away quickly, blushing. Warmth was suddenly enveloping his wrist, and he looked down to see Kyle's little hand wrapped around him, and he almost melted even in the confines of the frosty walk in.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he said, softly, and for once his face was devoid of malicious good humor. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

For whatever reason, Kyle's sudden sincerity emboldened Stan, and he was pulling him closer.

"I'll kiss Kenny if I get to kiss you too," he said, his heart pounding a painful staccato behind his breastbone.

Kyle considered this, his green eyes darkening to a misty forest green.

"Fine," he finally said. "But this better be one hell of a kiss."

"What, between me and Kenny or between me and you?" Stan asked, confused.

"Between all of us, dude. Now get on it." Kyle pushed Stan toward Kenny and stepped back, ever watchful.

Kenny, in his usual casual way of doing things, merely handed the joint to Kyle and stepped toward Stan, and before he could respond, Kenny was holding his face in his rough hands and tipping his lips upward. Stan closed his eyes and waited, and before too long Kenny's lips settled across his own, and he could taste weed and mountain dew on them, along with mint and alcohol and god knew what else. All of these flavors culminated to make a very potent cocktail as Kenny licked his lips apart, and his tongue was delving into Stan's mouth.

Stan was surprised to find himself sighing into the kiss a little, and as it deepened he opened one eye to see Kyle watching closely, his face flushed and his lips parted like he wanted to taste the kiss as well. Closing his eye again, Stan could feel himself becoming hard, but not because Kenny was kissing him, but because Kyle was watching them.

Eventually, he and Kenny broke apart, and Kenny was calm as he dug another joint out of his pocket to light it up, because Kyle had destroyed the other one.

"So, what'd you think?" Kenny asked, leaning back against one of the shelves. "Was it everything you'd hoped it would be?" He smirked.

"It was certainly interesting," Stan replied, wiping his mouth. He turned to Kyle, who was conspicuously silent. "What about you?"

Kyle pulled out a green apple blow pop from where he had it nestled on his ear and took a lick, the candy matching his eyes.

"I think you earned a kiss," he said.

Stan's heart was thumping so hard it was making him breathless as he stepped over to Kyle, and he turned his face upward, the lollipop still settled against his mouth. He almost looked like a little pixie as his eyes narrowed and his lips puckered, the pink skin tinged with green. As Stan leaned toward him he could smell a mixture of candy and clean sweat, and another indescribable scent that he couldn't even name, and he decided that that was probably just Kyle; waifish, unpredictable, irresistible Kyle.

He pressed his lips against Kyle's and for a moment the whole world seemed to light up, and he was suddenly taken away from that dingy walk-in in a crappy convenience store in a shitty mountain town in the middle of nowhere. Stan was lifted up above everything as his tongue slowly slid into Kyle's mouth that was unbelievably sweet and wet from the candy he'd just been sucking on. His essence poured into Stan and he knew that this moment couldn't possibly be enough, because he wanted so much more; he wanted fucking everything this kid could give.

Right before he had a chance to truly get lost in the feeling of being so near to Kyle, Kyle was pulling away and back toward the door, his eyes wide and suddenly so lost. He pushed the door opened and looked over his shoulder just once, and Stan was startled to see how stricken his face looked.

"I have to get out of here," he said, and he was gone, running away with his high top converse shoes slapping the floor.

Stan turned to Kenny, completely bewildered, but Kenny could only shrug as he took another hit.

"What can I say? He's eccentric."

The remainder of summer turned into a hot, sticky jumble of days that looked exactly alike after Stan kissed Kyle, mainly because after that day in the walk in Kyle didn't come into the store anymore. Stan continued to hold out hope during every shift he worked, but with every day that passed and he didn't see that familiar green ushanka he started to lapse into a resigned melancholy that overshadowed everything; even the oppressive August sun that continued to shine relentlessly.

Kenny was very little help when it came to tracking down Kyle, too, which just reinforced Stan's depression. Apparently Kyle just kind of popped up when it was least expected, and Kenny didn't even know where he lived. They'd met downtown one day and had started taking up together at the beginning of the summer, but beyond that Kenny knew almost nothing about him. It was truly like he was a fever dream that showed up out of nowhere and with a shimmer and one quick movement, he was gone.

"God, is he even fucking human?" Stan asked one day, running his fingers through his hair in complete frustration. "I've asked around everywhere and nobody can tell me where he is."

Kenny chugged some mountain dew, a cigarette resting behind his ear. Stan could only stare at it and remember the way Kyle used to keep lollipops tucked behind his ear in the exact same way, and his heart ached.

"Who even knows, dude? I mean, he's certainly cute enough to be like a nymph or fairy or whatever."

"I'm pretty sure both of those things are typically girls," Stan snapped.

"So? Can't we all be whatever we want? Stop trying to cram people in your little boxes, dude."

"Jesus Christ, I can't talk to you when you're this high," Stan replied, going back to stocking the cigarettes.

It was in the dog days of summer that Stan really started to give up hope that he'd ever see Kyle again, when he stepped out of work late one night to smoke a blunt before making his way home. He saw a tiny movement under one of the streetlights lining the street when his heart stopped, and his eyes settled on a lime green ushanka. Kyle was leaning on the lamp post, his arms wrapped around it and even from a distance Stan could feel his eyes settling on him.

Quickly, he stubbed out the blunt and ran over to Kyle, almost tripping over something in his haste but not caring. When Stan finally made his way to him, across a parking lot that suddenly felt like it was a thousand miles wide, he stopped and tried to catch his breath, but realized there was no point. When he looked into the green eyes he'd missed so much, he was immediately breathless again.

"W-where have you b-been?" He managed to say, still gasping.

"Oh, just thinking. Processing," Kyle replied, letting go of the lamp post and coming closer, but he seemed as skittish as the very first day they'd met, back at the beginning of that weird, dreamlike summer. "I'm a little hurt that you didn't try to find me," he pouted.

"You are such a brat," Stan said, but he couldn't help smiling. "I did try to find you. You're not exactly easy to track down, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry." Kyle looked down at his converse high tops and kicked at a wad of gum that was petrified on the sidewalk. "I guess I just needed some time away to deal with some stuff."

"Stuff? What stuff?"

"Whimsy," Kyle said. "I finally found it, and in the most unexpected of places, which further reinforces the whimsical aspect of all of this, don't you think?"

Stan groaned.

"Once again, you aren't making any fucking sense, dude. Can't you just talk to me like a normal person? We aren't stuck in some independent art house film or whatever."

"What makes you think we aren't?" Kyle looked around. "Here we are, under a dark summer sky in the middle of the night, bathed in the light of a street lamp, and we kind of sort of like each other, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Stan replied, not missing a beat.

"So," Kyle said, slowly. "Isn't that pretty fucking whimsical?"

Stan wasn't sure how to answer because the whole concept still seemed so vague to him, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind instead.

"Dude, I've been fantasizing about fucking you in the break room at my job for the entire summer." He pressed a hand to his mouth when he heard the words leave his mouth, and he cringed as Kyle's eyes widened in shock. After a few seconds of silence, Kyle cleared his throat.

"Well, um, that has its own whimsical quality in its own right, I guess," Kyle said, though he sounded uncertain. Suddenly, he was reaching out and grabbing Stan's hand, and they were marching back toward Stan's work.

"Where are we going?" Stan asked, trying to keep up and surprised that he almost couldn't; Kyle's legs were a fraction of the size of his own.

"To find more whimsy," Kyle replied, grinning back at him. "I'm not sure you can find it fucking in a break room but I'm sure as hell ready to find out."


End file.
